


What Icarus Knew

by Alliterative_Albatross



Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Angst, Episode: s01e22 The Last Crash of the Sunchaser!, Gen, duck twin feels, pre-sunchaser crash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-16
Updated: 2018-10-16
Packaged: 2019-08-02 21:33:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16313054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alliterative_Albatross/pseuds/Alliterative_Albatross
Summary: Donald's last conversation with his big sister before she steals the Spear of Selene.





	What Icarus Knew

“But Donnie, it’s space!” Della spreads her wings toward the open sky, face upturned into the starlight. _“Space,_ Donald! What better gift could a mother give to her ducklings?”

Della is all glowing eyes and unbridled enthusiasm. Later, _after,_ it’s difficult for Donald to hold on to his bitterness when he remembers her like this, vibrant and alive and positively quivering with anticipation.

But it is now, and now, Donald closes his eyes, blocking out the image of his impossibly stupid sister and shaking his head in frustration. “How about being their mother, Della?” he spits. “Your eggs need you!”

We all need you, he doesn’t say. I need you.

_How does she not see?_

But Della only throws back her head and laughs. It’s a struggle for Donald not to look up at her - he’s always been drawn in by his sister’s laugher - but he hardens his heart and keeps his gaze firmly on the gently lapping waves beneath them.

Tide’s rolling in, the officer in him notices.

Della is nonplussed by her little brother’s mercurial moods. She plops down beside Donnie, swinging a wing to catch him gently by the shoulder. One leg she dangles over the water, the other propped against the dock to rest her elbow on.

Later, _after,_ Donald will wonder just how many times they’d sat just like that on the Duckburg Peir, him sullen and bundled up, her swinging her free leg nonchalantly over the water’s edge. He will treasure each of those memories, later.

But it is now, and now, Donald says nothing.

“Don,” Della is looking at him seriously now. There is no more swinging, no more ethereal starlit glow in her face, no call to adventure in her stance. Della only calls her baby brother ‘Don’ when she needs to catch his attention, like that time in the Moroccan cave-in or when she’d lagged behind on an expedition and broken her wrist in a fall.

Donald huffs in response.

“Don,” she says again, this time taking her brother’s cheek with her wing and forcing his gaze toward her. “I’m not leaving them, Donald. I’m not leaving my babies.” Her eyes are dark. She looks sad, almost as if she’s hurt that Donald would suspect her capable of such sins. “I’m not leaving them, or Uncle Scrooge, or you!”

“Oh yeah! What’s this, then?” Donald snaps, thrusting the stolen blue-print to her chest. It unfurls and flutters to lay in her lap. Della avoids his gaze for a moment, only refocusing once again to look longingly to the sky, a tattered and faded blueprint of _The Spear of Selene_ pressed to her breast.

“It’s just a prototype,” she sighs. Her voice trembles once, then steadies. “It’s a pipe dream, Donald, nothing more.”

It’s wrong, Donald thinks, to see his sister looking so raw, so broken. He doesn’t understand it. Della hadn’t exactly planned to be a mom, no, but the universe had other ideas, and Della had dived headfirst into the impending adventure of motherhood just as boldly and enthusiastically as she’d embraced every other adventure that stood in her way. Donald thinks of the three - _three!!!_ \- eggs that lay waiting in their pram at Uncle Scrooge’s mansion. Della had been over the moon to have laid not twins, but _triplets!_ So had Uncle Scrooge and Donald.

Why, then, this sudden quest for the stars?

“Della,” Donald sighs. He takes both of Della’s wings into his own. “You know what the best thing you can give to those boys is?”

“-Girls,” Della corrects half-heartedly, but the corner of her bill is turning up into a lop-sided, teasing grin at the old banter. “What is the best thing that I could possibly give to my girls, Donnie?”

Donald still hasn’t let go of Della’s hands. He notices that her fingers are cold in his, so he weaves them through his own, clutching her ever-closer to his chest.”You,” he says as softly, as seriously as he’s ever said anything.

Della’s eyes begin to well. Sharply, she looks away, noticing for the first time just how close she is sitting to Donald, and how cold the air is on the Pier at night.

“Adventures are going to come and go. Like Uncle Scrooge says, it’s in their blood, after all! But one thing that those ducklings can never, never replace is their mother. Do you understand me, Della?”

Della smiles sadly at him, wiping her beak a bit with her shirt sleeves. Later, _after,_ Donald will remember that tiniest of moments most vividly of all. Della always did have terrible manners.

But it is now, and now, the moment is gone, and Della is standing up, wrapping both her wings around her brother with a strength that makes him worry he’ll be tossed into the ocean. “I’m not going anywhere, Donnie,” Della whispers into Donald’s ear. “Scout’s honor, I’ve been grounded for good. You’ll see.”

Donald rolls his eyes and shoves her gently back, moving them both away from the edge as he does so. “You mean it, Della?”

“I do.” She’s smiling now, a gentler, sadder smile. Later, _after,_ Donald will learn to hate that smile that haunts him on his darkest nights, but it is now, and now, it only sets something roiling uncomfortably in his stomach.

“And I mean this too, Donnie,” she finishes, reaching again for her brother.

“Hey. Hey, look at me.”

Donald looks.

“I love you, you know.”

Something simultaneously breaks and blossoms in Donald’s chest, and he allows his big sister her moment, comes falling gently into her arms only to be held there for a while, gently swaying back and forth. Neither of them say anything else for a long while, and Donald’s brain is awash with all the implications. Della’s going to make fantastic mother. The boys are going to go on all kinds of crazy adventures with Great Uncle Scrooge, and Donald? Well, Donald and Della are going to be alright. 

Later, _after,_ he will spend night after sleepless night reliving these last few moments with his sister. Later, _after,_ Donald will make himself absolutely sick with regret as all the words he did not say come rushing back to him. 

Later, _after,_ Donald knows he'd made the biggest mistake of his life on the night before his sister disappeared.

But it is now, and right now, his family is the greatest. What could happen?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just cannot help but think that there had to be some massive motivation for Della to have stolen the Sphere of Selene. I mean, yeah, I can get behind the, “one last adventure,” theme, but I believe (and honestly hope) that there was much more to it than that. Something *sent* Della to the moon that day, and frankly, the most heartbreaking thing of all is that Donald would have gone ten+ years without realizing that. 
> 
> That’s the tone that I wanted to capture here. Della knows something she can’t say, and Donald is completely in the dark. 
> 
> Gosh, these ducks have ruined me.


End file.
